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| This is not my terrain at all. This is terrain that makes me think less of my own. |
One of his dregs got wind of a horde of stone on his trip
into town. The rumor was the only thing sparing his life, as he also came in
smelling of beer. Darza was no fool, but they took advantage of his…disability, and indulged themselves when they went to town, buying food and drink for
themselves with their pay. They needed food, Darza remembered that, but he did
not give them permission. It was his own tactic, starving the men for a few
days, then giving them as much meat as they could eat, carved from the flesh of their enemies. It built a sense of
hierarchy and respect for authority. Your lord giveth and your lord can taketh
away. This would need to be dealt with, though he had no memory of which one
had disobeyed. With the same weapons and armor, they all looked the same to
him. Fancied themselves fighters, but they hadn't the faintest idea how to kill
a tree, much less a man, much less a troll, dragon, or giant. An ax did not a
god make. And the necromancer, with his fancy robes, could keep these pitiful
man-bits together, which was his only actual use. He was fragile, and this
caused the black bile within Darza to unsettle. This pathetic man could be put
in the grave with a single firm hand, he mused. And if he proved truly
pathetic, he very well may.
The group mobilized toward the horde, at a slow pace because
of the zombies. The pace, while aggravating, had its moments of relaxation. Darza had given Vyet
the job of cartographer as punishment. Also, the city was abandoned, which
meant that no one else would be after these petty black rocks. They reached the
pool and saw the still water. It was red. Darza felt his thirst welling up
within him. But he wasn't certain if he needed to feed or kill. Either way,
something was going to die. He hadn’t felt the life drain from a man by blade
or fang since his first act of insubordination while still a fledgeling vampire
in the service of his creator. His thoughts were broken as Darza saw shadows
emerging from the mist. Humans. Massive burly men, with all kind of stupid
contraption. He would feast. He knew this would be easy. However, more shadows
emerged from his left. Little rats-things. Lots of them. Too many for even a
bloodthirsty chaos knight vampire to take. And they appeared to have some kind
of spellcaster. How did that even work? Darza's only thought was that without
these stupid zombies, he could have raided the pool and been back at camp
already. He looked his team down. He could taste their fear. From all save the
zombies, but they had as much fear as ability. They wouldn't swing this battle
at all. Pep talk time. "Blitz the pool! Don't come back until you have
rocks! Flee without one, and I swear you will flee yourself onto my
blade!"
The three dregs feared battle, but they feared their captain
more. Buford, Clovis, and Ned raced toward the pool, each sure that their leader would punish the last man into the crimson water. Vyet attempted to advance,
but was held back by Darza's arm. "Not you."
The zombies shambled forward. They wouldn't even be involved
in this fight, Darza thought with disgust. He advanced in his heavy armor, with
his chaos sword and shield, both heavily worn down by age and the slow spread of rust across unholy steel. They had all been
re-gifted to him by his "judge" after spending the last twenty years
sitting on some skeleton. All so his captor could get some laughs. Twenty years
of rust and cracked leather straps. Nothing felt right anymore. His plates
sagged in all the wrong places, and his helmet strap had been torn out, making
it jiggle on his head when he moved. He felt his rage well up and charged into
combat. Whoever these beings were, they would be gifted the punishment he could
not give to his creator. The dregs were in the pool, sifting wildly. The humans
were advancing, as were the rats-things, though the rat-things were faster. One
of the dregs, Ned, whooped in triumph and sprinted back toward Darza, who was
to cover their retreat. Buford and Clovis were wasting precious seconds, and
the armor was slowing the vampire down. He wouldn't get there in time to hold
ground while they searched.. As the two turned to follow Ned, the ratmen
descended upon them. Darza could hear their terrified screams. Cowards. He
looked to the leader of the humans and gave a slight nod of the head. The human
returned the nod, scowl still on his face. This day, living and dead would
fight an enemy that ate you regardless of your state of decomposition. He
charged into the throng of rats, swinging wildly. His men had stopped their
screams, but mostly because the ratmen had pried the stones off the boys. This
is the best the men donated to him could do. Darza could only pull so much weight.
The men weren't soldiers.
He heard a frightened yell behind him and saw Vyet, who was
shooting his bow at some of the pathetic mice that had somehow flanked them.
The zombies plowed into them, but they weren't doing much. A flesh wall,
protecting a real asset. An incompetent one, but one all the same. Sword and
shield were the arms of the monster in the combat. One of the rats struck him,
sinking a dagger deep into an area where a plate had shifted due to the aged
strapping. He was suddenly overwhelmed by frustration at his own gifted impotence
when he heard a terrible explosion. Off to his right, one of the humans stood,
holding some kind of smoking stick. Several ratmen lay on the ground, clawing
at smoking wounds. So, they brought a sorcerer, eh? He too would meet his end.
The pincer closed, and the humans crashed violently with the beasts, as Darza’s
own forces closed in from the opposite side.
Darza eyed the captain, knowing
his own weakness, and the humans' penchant for greed, and stuck his sword deep
into one of the last skaven to consider jumping so powerful a creature. He
backed away, knowing a loss when he saw it. His two men were down, but he could
pick the field for them later. At least humans didn’t eat their own. He made
his hasty exit from the field, guiding Ned away. Suddenly, with a shriek, the
ratman caster charged the pair and Darza threw himself in front of the Dreg.
His shield absorbed the rampaging animal and for its trouble, it received a
vicious swing of Darza’s own massive rust-covered shield, and the beast
sprawled on its back. He needed to remind himself to sharpen his sword. This
was unacceptable. The thing glared at Ned powerfully, and the terrified man
gave a yell and hacked at the thing until it stopped moving. Behind him, his
zombies were collecting throwing knives with their flesh. Darza looked around at the carnage and saw no
hope of victory.
"RETREAT!!"
He looked back at the human
captain, who gave a sinister smile and a nod of the head. Darza felt his lips
curl into a sneer...
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